


Concealment

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 15:44:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20659685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis hides.





	Concealment

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He swerves around the corner and breaks into a run, almost knocking a maid over in his rush. He doesn’t yell an apology after her, because his pursuer might hear it. He’s fairly certain his father saw him getting into the elevator, and he knows his father’s after him. 

Noctis can’t allow himself to be caught. As much as he’d secretly love to spend some quality time with his father, he doesn’t want to get stuck in a lengthy, wildly boring meeting with the notoriously difficult minister of finance. He doesn’t care if it’s an important part of his training as future king. It’s Friday evening, and he’d much rather spend his night with his boyfriend, or maybe just at home playing online games with Prompto, or even something else with his father like fishing or a movie. Just not more _work_. Sometimes it feels like he gets more lectures at the Citadel than he does at university. 

He sees a broad shadow at the end of the hall, complete with the telltale, billowing movement of a cloak. His father’s the only one who regularly wears those. Noctis ducks into the first door on his left, belatedly realizing it’s Ignis’.

That’s fine. He knows the layout well and doesn’t waste time looking for a spot to hide—the only place is the large oak desk at the back of the room. Noctis hurries over to it and ducks underneath, sidling up against the back panel and pulling his legs against his chest. Then he starts schooling his breathing so his heavy panting from the run won’t give him away.

The door opens only a few minutes later. The footsteps that filter in are light and measured. He _thinks_ it’s not his father, would even bet it’s Ignis, but he stays hidden just in case. The footsteps cross the tiled floor and putter around the desk. Noctis recognizes the tight-fitting suit pants and sleek dress shoes. 

Ignis takes a seat at his desk, pulls the chair closer, and promptly bumps his knees into Noctis. Noctis can’t help a grunt. Ignis abruptly pulls back again and ducks down to look.

Noctis lifts his hand in a guilty wave. Ignis opens his mouth, but before any words come out, the door opens again. Ignis flies back up, attention diverted to the newcomer. 

The king’s familiar voice drawls, “Good evening, Ignis.”

“Good evening, Your Majesty.”

Noctis panics. He trusts Ignis implicitly, but more to do “what’s best for him” than what he wants. And as far as he knows, Ignis has never lied to the king. It’s more than likely he’ll rat Noctis out at the first chance he gets. 

In the split second he has before his father inevitably asks about him, Noctis formulates a wild plan and springs into action. 

He wedges his hands between Ignis’ knees, pries Ignis’ legs open, and sidles up between them. He can feel Ignis going rigid, his thighs tense beneath Noctis’ fingers. Noctis kneads them gently as though to try and soothe him, then leans in and breathes a hot puff of air across Ignis’ fly. 

Regis asks, “Have you seen Noctis, by any chance?”

Ignis has an audible hitch of breath. Noctis leans down and swipes his tongue right over the subtle bulge in Ignis’ pants. The fabric tastes dull and vaguely unpleasant, but Ignis’ unmistakable shiver is worth it. He can feel Ignis’ cock twitching excitedly beneath him. Noctis opens wide and deliberately mouths at it, soaking a damp patch over Ignis’ zipper. Noctis doesn’t dare open it, just in case they are caught, but he does dare give Ignis a blowjob through the fabric. It’s the only way he can think of ensuring Ignis won’t tell on him. He knows how much Ignis wants the king’s respect, and he’s sure to lose that if he reveals that he has the crown prince hidden right under his desk, trying to suck his cock. 

Ignis swallows and slowly answers, “I... I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I don’t believe I’ve seen him.”

Ignis is going to kill him. Noctis knows that. It’ll still be worth it, especially because Ignis looks ridiculously hot when he’s angry, and his punishments usually wind up more fun than not. 

Regis doesn’t reply right away. He’s probably noticed that something’s off—Ignis never has a tremor in his voice. And he always knows where Noctis is. His hand ducks beneath the table and comes to fist in Noctis’ hair, lightly shoving Noctis back. Noctis defies it and stays where he is. Grip tightening, Ignis pushes him harder, and Noctis has to muffle his cry of pain at the hair pulling in Ignis’ crotch. He lets Ignis pull him away, but he stubbornly turns his head to nip at Ignis’ thigh, which has Ignis fractionally jumping. The hand in his hair is trembling. 

Noctis sort of wants it to pull his hair again, then drag him out from under the desk, throw him across it, and maybe spank him for misbehaving. That would be a much better night than one spent in regional budget talks.

Finally, his father says, “Well, if you do see him, please inform him that I’m looking for him.”

Ignis promises, “I will.”

Footsteps sound again. Noctis’ father must be leaving. He breaks out of Ignis’ grip and envelops the growing bulge in Ignis’ pants with his jaw stretched as wide as it’ll go. He’s not surprised to find that bulge harder than when he left it. 

As soon as the door’s closed, Ignis’ chair scrapes back. Noctis lets himself out of the small space, rising up to full height and whipping his mouth off on the back of his hand. Before Ignis can scold him, he darts down to peck Ignis’ cheek. 

Ignis looks horribly embarrassed and mortally scandalized. Noctis mutters around his broad grin, “Thanks.”

Ignis’ blush is hardened by a death glare. But Noctis isn’t surprised when he’s pulled down by the lapels and properly kissed.


End file.
